Retail Therapy
by Qiana Zee
Summary: (1998) - Blair Cramer goes shopping to take her mind off losing her daughter. . . and the ex-husband who still owns her heart.


Retail Therapy

Blair Cramer breathed in roughly as she slammed the car door. She moved through the parking garage and headed toward the elevators that led to Logan's Department Store. If the tiny red dress she'd been eyeing for weeks didn't make her feel better, nothing would. But that wasn't exactly true, was it? She'd give away all the red dresses she owned if it meant having more time with her daughter, Starr. She'd waltz through downtown Llanview in a potato sack if Todd and his bitch-wife would dole out a few extra minutes with her beautiful little girl.

As she waited for the elevator to descend, she recalled the last couple of hours.

When her ex-husband opened the door he'd seemed lost in thought, grunting unintelligibly as he stepped aside to allow her inside.

"Nice to see you too, Todd."

"Oh, I forgot my manners," he snarled. "How about I—"

"How about you cut the shit and go get my daughter," she said, hoping to sidestep an argument.

"She just went down for a nap, Blair."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind her mother looking in on her, Todd."

She gazed at him and became dismayed by what she saw. He hadn't been sleeping. She could tell. But while most sleep-deprived people looked worn down, he always became hyper. He looked ready to bounce off the walls.

Todd wasn't happy. At least not what passed for happiness in his world. And if he wasn't happy, how was his present frame of mind affecting Starr?

"What the hell is going on with you?" she demanded.

"What do you care?"

"I care if it affects my daughter."

"_Our_ daughter is happy and healthy, Blair. You know that. The court knows that. It's why she lives with me. Remember?"

His glare, the sight of which she'd grown far too familiar since his return from Ireland, was in full force now, seeing into the depths of her soul. His eyes had always been miraculous to her. They were so expressive, changing color with his mood. Hazel, normally. Sometimes a beautiful crisp green. They shone a stunning turquoise during his more carefree moments. But today, they were muddy—almost black.

In that moment, Blair allowed herself to forget everything that had transpired in the last two years. She listened to her heart. Her heart told her to reach out to him.

Todd jerked away so quickly she thought he might crumble to the floor.

"Don't—don't do that."

"Look, I'm sorry. You just looked like—"

"Don't worry about what I look like. Is it your job to worry about what I look like, Blair? I don't need your . . . whatever it was you were trying to push on me. I don't want it."

"You need something!" she accused. "You're a mess. That's obvious. When's the last time you slept, Todd, huh?" She scanned his tortured form. "When is the last time you _showered_?"

"You sound as bad as _her_."

She smirked. "And who might _her _be? You don't mean your _wife_ do you? 'Cuz if you do, I have to say I agree with her for once. How she could let you crawl into her bed looking like that—"

She stopped when she noted her ex-husband's expression. He seemed annoyed, perhaps a little ruffled.

"Oh. So she still has her own bedroom, is that right? I guess I assumed—being that she's always attempting to sell your marriage as more than a convenience—that you two were finally collaborating on more than keeping me away from my daughter."

Todd smirked. "What do you care about who I collaborate with?"

"I don't," she said quickly. Too quickly. "I just wondered—"

"Stop wondering. You think I waste my time wondering about your collaborations with Holden? Or is it Sam now?"

She thought Todd _did_ waste his time worrying about her. In fact, she knew it. If he thought he could shame her, he was definitely spending too much time with his shyster wife.

Blair moved toward the staircase. Todd jerked out of her path almost as if he feared being too close.

Having her too close always made him nervous. His anxiety had only intensified after his fake marriage. She knew it was a loveless union. It was without a doubt passionless—other than the gleeful moments they shared taking potshots at her. Now she knew without a doubt the marriage was sexless too.

She matched his glare, refusing to give an inch. She saw so many things when she gazed in her his eyes. Anger. Bitterness. Vengefulness. Yet she also saw the things he wished to keep hidden. Loss. Pain. Yearning.

The worst part, the absolute worst part, was that she saw love.

Todd's love raged to the surface, even as he tried to check the flames. She knew he feared those flames would devour him. He chose to keep the fire buried, only allowing it to fester when it could masquerade as hatred. He'd then allow his passion free rein, until it burned hot enough to nearly destroy them both.

Could he look at her and see all her hopes, wishes and fears? Did he know that she could go from wanting to bash in his face to wanting to hug him in the bat of an eyelash? Or that she often cried herself to sleep at night as she looked through their wedding photo album? Was it obvious that she loved him fiercely, with all her soul, even when he went out of his way to make her life a living hell?

She blinked away the tears she feared might betray her. Yet she knew it didn't matter. He saw her as clearly as she saw him. He knew what she was feeling because he felt it too.

"Blair," he said quietly, his voice soft as a caress. "I—"

"I'm going up to see Starr," she said hurriedly. She moved to the staircase, hoping he couldn't hear the steady thrum of her heart.

"Yeah. Okay."

She ascended the stairs without looking back.

Too much had happened. There were just too many bad memories in their past to try to make things right. The time for talk was over. From this moment forward, she would only concentrate on finding a way to get custody of Starr.

The elevator door opened, pulling Blair from her reverie. The dress she intended to buy would give neither love nor solace. It would not replace a hug from her daughter or a passionate kiss from the man she loved. As someone who had grown up on scraps and survived to tell the tale, she knew the purchase would provide a brief moment of pleasure. Yet she would buy the expensive fluff anyway, using it as a distraction until she could get her life on track.

Just because she felt like hell didn't mean she had to look like it.

The End


End file.
